


Rule Eighteen

by Nevcolleil



Series: Paint by Numbers [3]
Category: Inception (2010), White Collar
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 06:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13564929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevcolleil/pseuds/Nevcolleil
Summary: Some rules they come up with after the fact.(Or should that be,the morning afterthe fact?)





	Rule Eighteen

The door slams open at the worst possible moment...

Not that he would have been any less naked in the moment directly preceding this one, or less unarmed (Neal doesn't like guns; doesn't want one near the bed while he's in it.) But if a man has to be caught naked, unarmed, and rather certain that either last night's sleight of hand at the craps table or last week's failed forge for that punter in New Guiness is about to catch up with him- 

Well. Eames has to think that post-coital would be the preferable moment in which to be caught this way. Pre-coital is just plain mean.

Regardless, the door slams open and Eames is faced with a quandary. How does he react? He could try and make it to his gun, the option his self-preservation instincts most approve of. But that would leave his bed partner vulnerable to any shots fired, should their attacker come in guns blazing.

Eames could also put himself between Neal and harm's way. But- He's of no use to the bloke if he's dead, now is he? For all he knows, their angry visitor is here for Neal. Eames knows a fellow con when he sees one, and Neal is most definitely that. Also, Eames likes Neal well enough... The man is drop dead gorgeous. He's a charmer and he seems... familiar to Eames somehow. But there's no great, romantic love here for Eames to fall on his sword for. He and Neal were just having a spot of fun, that's all.

Eames goes with option number three. He gives Neal a scathing glance, as if to say, 'You see now? This is what happens when you don't keep a gun by your bed.' But the glance morphs into a no doubt comical expression of abject shock when he sees that Neal has produced a 9 mm from god knows where and already has a bead on the doorway about to admit god knows whom.

Neal looks at Eames calmly through the corner of his eye and maybe Eames is reading too much into it, but he thinks the look says, 'What? I said I didn't want your gun near the bed... Of course I kept my own. I'm not an idiot.'

Eames hopes that whoever storms into the room is storming because of Neal...

Until 'whoever' actually becomes visible and Eames sees that it's Arthur.

"Ar-"

" _Arthur?_ "

Before Eames can question just what the hell his favorite/least favorite pointman (depending upon whether Arthur is being tetchy at the moment and Eames petty) is doing here, Neal makes it very clear that Arthur is, in fact, storming into their hotel room because of him.

'Oh bloody hell...' This is just what Eames needs. Caught naked, unarmed, in bed with a man Arthur obviously considers himself as having a claim to... Eames remembers the time Arthur got it into his head that Eames was making a play for Dom Cobb. The supposition was absurd, of course, so Eames thought he'd have a little fun and pretend that Arthur was onto something. He's never going to do that again. Eames courts death often enough when there's money to be won for it. He doesn't need to go around risking his life for free.

The look on Arthur's face now is almost as dark as it had been then. 

"Arthur, darling! What a surprise. And by surprise, I mean quite literally that I had no idea this one meant anything to you..."

"Shut up, Eames."

"Arthur, I didn't know," Neal says, distracting Eames before he can take offense to Arthur's tone, no matter the circumstances. "If this is a rule seventeen thing, I-"

"Rule- No." Arthur looks taken aback for a moment and then continues. Looking a lot less righteous in his fury, though no less furious, as he does. "I've never been with Eames, but it's- It's Eames. You can't sleep with Eames."

"Why not?" Neal looks rather adorable, almost pouty, and still as hot as hell. Eames would echo his sentiment except his brain's caught on a couple of things. What are these rules that they speak of? And- Neal thought Arthur's been with Eames? Where the bloody hell did he get that from and the hell does it have to do with this?

"Because he's Eames." Arthur seems to be struggling with his explanation... Not that Eames feels any sympathy for him as Arthur says, "He's obnoxious. He's dangerous..."

Actually, maybe that last part earned a bit of Eames's sympathy. "You think I'm dangerous?" He grins.

"His sense of style is abysmal," Arthur says bleakly, like Eames never spoke. Eames's grin disappears. "New rule," Arthur says.

"Arthur-"

"Rule Number Eighteen. No sleeping with each other's friends."

"Friends you-"

"Yes, Eames, I consider you a friend," Arthur tells him, in a typically Arthur, why-must-you-be-so-daft tone of voice. Except it doesn't irritate Eames the way that voice generally does because he didn't realize that Arthur felt that way about him. And then to have Arthur walk in on him and Arthur's man, in bed together-

"Oh," Eames says blankly, feeling bad.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I didn't know you felt that way," Neal says sincerely.

At least he sounds sincere. But who doesn't know that you don't sleep around if you're lucky enough to have bagged a man like Arthur?

"You didn't know he wouldn't like having his man step out on him?" Eames scoffs, incredulously. Whether it was with a friend or no-

"Man- Eames, Neal is my brother," Arthur tells him.

Eames reconsders. 'Oh.' Well. In that case...

He can't scurry out of the bed fast enough. There's no way he's getting mixed up with someone with Arthur's neurotic, gun-loving, scary-jealous blood running through his veins. No matter how pretty he is.

"What the-" Neal wonders.

"You'll thank me for this some day," Arthur promises. "Dear god, my eyes," he complains.

Eames leers at him. "Oh, doth protest too much, darling. I know you like what you see. Your brother certainly did."

Neal sighs. "Yeah. I'm getting dressed now."

Mostly, the three of them try to put the incident out of mind during their many (often awkward) interactions in the future.


End file.
